Dinner with the Family
by Monker
Summary: Set before PD1, Rupert and Philippe are both alive and well. Joseph is asked to join Clarisse and her sons for dinner when Rupert is held up with work. This shows the relationship that Joseph had with Clarisse and her sons before anything got romantic.


**Title:** Dinner with the Family

**Author:** Monker

**Rating:** G

**Genre:** General/Family/Friendship

**Summery:** Set before PD1, Rupert and Philippe are both alive and well. Joseph is asked to join Clarisse and her sons for dinner when Rupert is held up with work. This is a light hearted story that shows the family dynamics of Genovia's Royal Family.

**Disclaimer:** I own no part of the Princess Diaries. The story, however, is my own.

**Author's Note: **This is just a little story that came to mind a while ago. Not much romance in it, but you can see the nice little relationship that Joseph shared with Clarisse before it turned romantic. I love the idea of Joseph interacting with the Princes while they were still at home, so I wanted to write a piece that showed the relationship between Joseph and the Royal Family. Anyway, this is that story and I hope that you enjoy it!

Deep breath in...Deep breath out...Here we go!

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It was quiet in the dining room of the Genovian palace. The soft sound of the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room seemed like a thunder clap in comparison with the rest of the room. In the palace, there were two main dining rooms. One was mostly reserved for lager and more formal eating parties. With seating for forty and two large chandeliers overhead, it was quite a sight to behold and made a striking impression on all who entered it. The other was a bit smaller and thought of more as a private dinning room, though the table was still rather sizable with seating for twenty-six, and it is in this latter dining room that three people sat and waited. The place was absolutely spotless. The dark mahogany of the table top shined and one could practically use it as a mirror if desired. The single chandelier that shimmered overhead was still rather breathtaking, and the carpet was so soft that one's foot seemed to sink into it with each step.

Around the large table, as mentioned before, sat only three people. The first was a young man, about the age of twenty-two. He had dark blonde and neatly cut hair, his face was clean shaven, and his eyes were dark brown. Though he normally sat with his back strait, always mirroring the proper posture that he had been taught since a young age; now he sat slumped over in his chair, leaning on the table with his head resting on a fist. To his left sat another man, even younger still.

This second man, and brother of the first, was about twenty years of age. His hair was a dark brown and his face was more round than his brother's. Unlike his brother, this man's face bore a full, but well-trimmed, beard and mustache. His eyes were a light shade of blue, like his mother's, but aside from that, he mostly resembled his father; whereas his brother's features tended to lean more towards his mother's side.

Across from the two boys sat their mother, a charming and elegant woman with golden blond hair and striking blue eyes. She sat strait with her back pressed firmly against the chair behind her. She didn't allow herself to forget her good posture as easily as her sons apparently did. With her hands draped neatly in her lap, she thought about the time and glanced at the plate of food that lay before her. The plate was one of four that sat untouched on the table. The first two had been placed in front of the two young men and the third sat in front of their mother, but the forth sat in front of no one at the head of the table.

The youngest held his fork in his right hand and unconsciously tapped it against the table in time with the grandfather clock's ticking. It was clear that he was growing impatient. And his mother was growing irritated. Then the thick silence had been pierced with her swift words, "Philippe, with you _please_ stop that retched tapping!"

The rhythmic sound of the Prince's fork stopped immediately. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said. Then he leaned back in his chair and looked anxiously towards the doorway. "Oh, I do wish Father would hurry up already! The food is getting cold and the smell of it is making me more hungry by each second. Shall we start without him?"

"Absolutely not, you're father is only busy and is making his way here now, I'm sure," Clarisse assured her son.

"Be patient, Philippe. Father will come. And if you're worried about the food getting cold then you can ask the cook to bring out a fresh plate once Father gets here," Pierre, the oldest of the boys, reasoned.

Another long silence went by as the three of them continued to wait. Finally, Philippe said, "I don't think he's coming."

Pierre sighed and looked pleadingly towards the ceiling before turning to say to his brother, "Of course he's coming. Just give him more time."

"Fine, I bet that within the next ten minutes a maid or someone is going to come through those doors," here the younger Prince gestured towards the open doors leading out into the hallway, "and tell us that Father is too busy to join us for dinner tonight."

"How much?" his brother replied.

"A dollar."

"Deal."

"Absolutely not!" Clarisse spoke up, "I will have _no_ gambling going on in this household. Now, you two boys try your best to remain civil and wait for you father."

However, three minutes later, just as Philippe had predicted, Gregorio, the King's personal assistant, came into the room with his clipboard pressed firmly to his chest.

"Good evening, Gregorio," Philippe greeted with a smug grin, knowing he was about to win the bet. "What news do you have to tell us?"

"Good evening to Your Majesties all. I'm afraid to say that His Majesty says he has found himself too overcome with business to have dinner with the three of you tonight. He sends his apologies and asks that you will continue on without him," the short and thin faced man informed.

Philippe turned to his brother and smiled triumphantly at him, earning him a roll of the eyes and a dollar bill passed swiftly to him from underneath the table, out of sight from their mother.

"Thank you, Gregorio. Will that be all?" Clarisse asked.

"Yes, madam. Enjoy your meal," The assistant bowed his way out of the room, nearly running strait into the Head of Security in the process.

"Joseph!" Pierre called, gaining him the attention of the man that was passing through the hall.

The Head of Security, clad entirely in black, entered the room and clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes, Your Highness?" he asked in his deep, cigar-bitten voice.

"May I ask what your plans were for the evening?" Pierre asked.

Joseph tilted his head a little to the side, "I have some business to take care of with the security cameras in the east wing, and then I have some paperwork to do."

"Ahh, I see. And may I ask what you're dinner plans were for this evening?" Pierre asked.

Clarisse breathed in smoothly and inclined her head a little with realization. She had been a little confused by her son's sudden desire for a conversation with the Head of Security…but now she understood his motives. Philippe too seemed to realize what his brother was getting at, and he too looked towards Joe for his answer.

"I hadn't exactly worked that part out yet, Your Highness. But I assume it will involve food of some sort."

Pierre laughed, showing his gloriously bright and strait teeth, "Well Joe, I only ask because we've just been told that my father will not be joining us for dinner due to his work. So we have a fine chair and an even finer dinner..." he looked woefully at the empty chair and cooling plate, "and no one to share them with. So I thought to ask if you would like to join us for dinner."

Joe smiled at the young Prince's performance and replied, "Though I thank you for the offer, I really don't think it's necessary. What ever His Majesty does not eat now can be saved for him later. As for me, I am happy to eat in the kitchen with the other servants when the time comes."

"Oh, nonsense, Joseph!" Clarisse said, "A meal that's gone cold is no good to anyone, especially Rupert. And as for you, you know that we think of you as more than just a servant. You're our friend. We would be honored if you ate with us."

"Just a friend, Mother? Oh, I should think not!" Philippe said mellow dramatically as he stood from his chair, "Joe here is more than just a friend!" he walked over to Joseph and stood behind him, placing a hand on each of the older man's shoulders. He brought his head from behind Joe's head to look at his mother. "Why, he's been a part of my life since day one! I remember it well. When I was born…"

Here Joe snorted at the Prince's words.

Philippe continued on in a dreamy, far-off voice, "I recall seeing the doctor, a frightfully ugly man. And he struck me on my bottom."

Pierre started chuckling now and Clarisse smiled, trying to suppress the laughter that threatened to spill from her own mouth.

He went on, "I started to cry. It was all very scary and very confusing. But I recall seeing a dark figure, dressed in black and standing by the door with an expression like this…" Philippe made his best impression of Joe's trademark 'security guard scowl' and absolutely nailed it, causing the other two at the table to laugh. Joseph turned his head to see the look, but his face was too close to the Prince and he couldn't make it out before Philippe washed the expression from his face. "And that was the beginning; that was the first time I laid eyes on him."

"Prince Philippe, I wasn't in the room when you w-" Joseph started but Philippe cut him off.

"Please Joe, don't interrupt me when I'm reminiscing. And from that day on, he's been a crucial part of my life." He seemed to be snapped out of his dreamy state and looked at Joe sternly. "That does it," he said, "It's no longer a question. It's obligatory." With his grip on Joseph's shoulders, Philippe began to direct him towards the seat at the head of the table.

"Philippe…" Joe began, but was once more interrupted.

"Nope, no buts! Just sit and enjoy your meal, young man," Philippe said, sounding exactly like his father though not intending to.

Upon hearing the words 'young man' Joseph yanked his head to the side to look at Philippe with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked smile.

Philippe smiled at him and sat him down in the chair. Then he returned to his own chair and took a seat.

Immediately after being seated, Joseph felt rather uncomfortable. Not because of the chair itself, but rather because he felt for sure that he didn't belong in this position. For one thing, he had never before sat down in this room. He only ever entered it to have a brief conversation with someone who belonged in the room, or if he were standing guard by the door as the Royal Family was eating together. Another reason for his unease was that he wasn't only sitting at the table, but at the _head_ of the table! In the King's very chair, no less! He certainly didn't feel worthy of sitting in such a place.

Joseph looked at the plate and then at the small one-way mirror that was built into the wall to his right. He knew that it led to the kitchen and was used so that the servers could look and see when the Family was ready for their next course. And it made him feel awkward knowing that soon his friends from the kitchen would be coming out and serving _him_ a meal. He didn't like the thought of having the special treatment. But still…after the performance the young Prince had just made, it was clear that all at the table wanted him to stay and eat. And he certainly did love the family with whom he was sitting and whose eyes he knew were on him as he sat awkwardly in the King's chair. He did want to make them happy. So he slowly lowered his shoulders from their tense position and allowed himself to settle into the chair.

The other three watched attentively as Joseph slowly relaxed into the seat. Clarisse saw the timidity and awkwardness of his body language and found it very endearing. Half of her felt bad for Joseph. It was clear that he didn't feel right as he was being urged by her two sons to sit and eat; it was even more clear that he was uncomfortable being in the King's chair especially. But the other half of her was glad that he had decided to join them for dinner. She never liked the impersonal and very formal way most of the people on staff treated her and her family, but Joseph was different. He was professional and personal at the same time. While the boys were still young, Joseph used his breaks from duty to play with them and teach them new things that they wouldn't learn in their usual studies. He truly was like a member of the family, and having him sitting there for dinner made it seem even more so. She smiled at her boys and they returned the look.

Once the Head of Security seemed to settle in a bit more, Clarisse asked, "Comfortable?"

Joseph flashed her a weak smile and said, "Quite."

Then the four of them bowed their heads and blessed the food and the meal began.

Every night, the cooks would make one main meal for the Family, and then another less extravagant meal for the whole staff. And everyone would come to the kitchen at different times throughout the evening and eat together and talk and laugh and joke about their days. It was to these meals that Joseph usually went for dinner, unless of course he was working late (which seemed to be the case a lot as of late), in which case he would enter the kitchen later after everyone else had eaten their full and left. Sometimes, he would get there as the kitchen staff here cleaning up. Usually AJ would be there cleaning. AJ was a young man about the age of nineteen and was a wonderful cook, though only Joseph and AJ himself knew it. AJ's dream was to be a chef and Joseph had had many conversations with Ralph, the Head Chef at the palace about AJ's cooking abilities...but that pompous fool refused to give the young man a chance, saying that he was better at mopping floors and scrubbing dishes. But AJ, if he was there, would always take a break from scrubbing and whip Joseph up a tasty meal. This was the routine nearly every night.

But now here he was, in the Royal Dining Room, and it felt very odd. However, though he still felt out of place, Joseph certainly didn't want to seem rude, so he followed the lead of his table-mates, and started eating. He noticed right away how flavorful the food was. The taste of the food in his mouth was like a rainfall of dozens of different colors bursting one after the other. It was delicious.

"So boys," Clarisse began, "How were your days?"

"I spent most of the day in the office with Father," Pierre said drearily.

"But in the afternoon he came out with me and we went riding," Philippe said.

"Yes, we had a bit of a race…which I, well…dominated," said Pierre casually but with an air of boastfulness.

"Yes well, I believe it was an unfair race. Your horse obviously had the advantage over me and Abilene. I'm afraid she had some painful mud in her hoof. Poor girl," Philippe stated quickly.

"And how was your day, Joseph?" Clarisse asked.

Joseph looked at his Queen, "My day was fine. Thank you for asking, Your Majesty."

"So…" Pierre began, making a vague gesture with his fork, "What do you do all day? I mean, yeah I see the security guards around in there posts. But every time I see you, you're always walking, always headed somewhere. Do you ever stop moving?"

Joseph laughed and wiped his goatee with his napkin before replying, "Sometimes I wonder the same thing. I do a number of things around the palace. I check with every post and see how the men are doing there, see if they need any changes. If we're expecting visitors at the palace, I read through and okay or reject all of the files found on that person. I read some of the unwanted mail that may pose a security risk."

"Unwanted mail? What kind of unwanted mail?" Pierre asked.

"The kind we don't want," Philippe stated simply.

Pierre rolled his eyes, "Thanks for clearing that conundrum up for me, Philippe."

"My pleasure, brother."

Although her sons seemed ignorant to it, Clarisse knew what that unwanted mail was. It was hate mail, threats on her life and the lives of her family. She was grateful for everything that Joseph and his men did for her family, but it was still frightening to know that there were people out there who wanted to hurt her and her family. Clarisse shuddered slightly, a small shudder that only Joseph noticed. He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if she was alright. She breathed in smoothly and sent a little nod his way. His concerned look remained on his face for a moment longer, then he turned his attention back towards the youngest Prince as he asked another question.

"So do you have files on me?" Philippe asked.

"I do, but I don't need them."

"Why not?"

"Because he's lived with you your whole life. He already knows your past. Why would he have to look it up?" Pierre said.

Joseph pointed to the Crown Prince, "That's why not."

"Alright, so now we know what you do as work. Now I have another question, what do you do for fun?" Philippe asked.

"Philippe, you've known this man your whole life. Why are you acting as though this is your first meeting?" Clarisse asked as she took another bite of her delicious food.

"Because I don't truly know him, Mother. Not in that sense, anyway. And what about yourself? Do _you_ know what Joe does for fun?"

Clarisse looked down at the napkin in her lap. Her son had a good point. She didn't know what the Head of Security did in his spare time. She looked up to see Joseph watching her with an interested expression on his face. Clearly he too wanted to see how well she thought she knew him. Then Clarisse remembered.

"He sings," she said finally, pleased with herself for remembering that fact.

The boy's expressions were shocked ones as Joseph laughed and shook his head in disbelief. "Hold on, now!" the man said, embarrassed, while wiping his mouth with his napkin and leaning back in his chair. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

"You sing, Joe?" Pierre asked, quite amused both by the revelation itself and by the responce of the gentleman to Pierre's left.

Joseph wiped his face again, as though trying to wipe away the blush from his cheeks. "Your mother is terribly generous if she calls what I do 'singing.'"

"Oh tush, Joseph! You're a glorious singer!" Clarisse encouraged.

"No, Your Majesty, I'm really n-" But Joseph's protest was interrupted.

"Glorious?" Pierre exchanged looks with his brother before saying, "Come now, Joseph. Give us a sample!"

"No, no, Your Highness. I cannot."

"And why not?" Pierre asked.

"Because…" Joseph laughed again as he quickly tried to think of a good excuse. "Because my mother always taught me that it was impolite to sing at the dinner table," he finally said. This actually was the truth, his mother did in fact say that it was rude to sing at the table, it was also rude to wear a hat or drum on the table top (something for which Joseph was scolded many times as a child).

"Mothers!" Philippe said, either ignoring or not noticing the look this elicited from Clarisse. "They have so many rules! With Joe it was singing; with ours, gambling."

Pierre laughed but Joseph, not getting the joke gave a quizzical look towards Clarisse who merely rolled her eyes. Where had she and Rupert gone wrong with these boys?

And so it continued. The family laughed and chatted away until the meal was over. Pierre was the first to stand, saying that he had best go and see what had kept his father so occupied and, if possible, help to lighten the load. Philippe also said that he had a phone call to make. Both Princes kissed their mother on the cheek before shaking the hand of Joseph and then exiting the room.

Truthfully, the two boys were the ones who had kept the conversation going the whole time and now that they were gone, a still silence filled the air.

"So…" Joseph began, "you disapprove of gambling?"

Clarisse laughed and placed her napkin on her plate, indicating that she was done with her meal. "Yes, I do."

Joseph stood and was soon standing behind Clarisse's chair and pulling it out for her so she could stand. "Then it is probably for the best that I never answered Philippe when he asked what I did for fun," Joseph joked as he took Clarisse's hand and helped her from the chair.

Clarisse tilted her head backward and gave a rich laugh in which Joseph joined. When her laughter subsided, Clarisse asked, "Tell me Joseph, why did you deny that you sing?"

"Well, Your Majesty, the night you heard me singing was an accidental one. I…I thought I was alone." Joseph blushed as he recalled his embarrassment from being overheard.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean that you cannot sing," Clarisse insisted.

Joseph chose to say nothing to this, knowing that Clarisse would only continue to flatter him more. Instead he placed a hand on her back and gestured for them to leave the room.

As they left Clarisse said, "I truly did enjoy having your company for dinner today."

Joe smiled, "I enjoyed it as well," he said.

"Perhaps I should tell the servers to start setting the table for five and we could make a habit out of this," she suggested, then added with a smile, "and I promise…we won't make you sit in Rupert's chair next time."

Joseph laughed, "In that case, I'd love to!"

The End

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